


make me cave in

by dansmithism



Category: Bastille (Band), To Kill A King (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 05:36:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14888618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dansmithism/pseuds/dansmithism
Summary: an au where ralph & dan are comedians /shrug





	make me cave in

**Author's Note:**

> this is so crap lol  
> stay tuned for the next section?

FLASHBACK - FIRST MEETING.

Being invited onto a panel show meant one of two things; either, one, it would make Ralph's comedy career and send him skyrocketing into the currently far-reaching hemispheres of fame, or, two, it would kill it and kill it totally, completely dead - like a bird being sucked into a turbine. Being invited onto a comedy spin off of Countdown? That would, absolutely make his career, he was sure of it. Shit, his agent was so sure of it that she had sworn to quit smoking if it didn’t, at the very least, push his name into the limelight for a temporary amount of time, and knowing Annie, who wasn't going to be quitting anytime soon, for any fucker, let alone Ralph, it meant that this short television cameo would, absolutely, catapult him into glory - whether he liked it or not. The only downside to the preliminary to glory, however, was the fact that he was forced to share a dressing room with one of the other lesser known comedians who would also be sitting at one of those desks and playing a very silly, very crude version of an OAP’s favourite game show. 

With a sigh, he shuffled into the dressing room, conveniently ignoring the names that had been taped to the door, and immediately went to sit down on a fading leather couch. It was as he was taking a sip out of his water bottle that Ralph had noticed a stringy, scraggly-haired, sort of pale guy was muttering to himself in the mirror. It was sort of amusing, watching as the guy was attempting to pump himself up and shake off his nerves, but a bigger part of him worried that the poor dude might have a full blown breakdown on national television. Before he could even think about introducing himself, however, the guy noticed Ralph's reflection in the mirror and suddenly twisted around and brought up an overly friendly grin.   
“Hey.” Greeted the guy, offering Ralph a weak sort of wave. “You’re one of the other guys going on Cats Does Countdown, then, yeah?”  
“Yeah, I'm Ralph.” Replied the comic, offering the stringbean a weakened version of a friendly smile. “I'm a stand up, so this whole playing countdown shit is way out of my comfort zone.”  
“I'm Dan, I do musical stand up, mostly, but I’ve got some special material written just for dictionary corner.” Grinned the other man, shrugging some.  
“Musical stand up?” Ralph scoffed, amused by the notion.  
“Yeah, think Flight Of The Conchords and Bill Bailey.” Dan nodded, a little too enthusiastically.  
“Oh, I see!” Ralph nodded after taking a moment to think about the description he was given. “That's cool. How long have you been on the scene?”  
“Since uni, really. You?” Dan shrugged, pushing a pair of glasses that Ralph had only just noticed up the bridge of his nose.  
“Pretty much the same, yeah.” Laughed Ralph. “So, musical stand up, how does that work? I mean, I get it, but I’ve never really seen anyone do it before.”  
“Oh, I write songs about the stupid stuff I've done or scenarios that I've been in.” Dan explained, being rather vague. “I've got songs called Hangover Cures, The London Underground Is A Giant Petri Dish, Drunk Texting and What The Actual Fuck Is Cricket?.”   
“Hangover Cures intrigues me, do you just list them to music or?” Ralph asked, a light frown taking over his features.  
“No, I tell a musical story about trying different hangover cures and how none of them actually work.” Dan said, shaking his head some. “One bit goes: I chugged an entire bottle of lucozade to wash out the taste of sick from my mouth, five minutes later it all goes south and I start getting flashbacks of the night before.”  
“Lucozade is a hangover cure, now?” Scoffed Ralph. He’d heard of many other so-called cures for a hangover, but that particular drink had never been suggested by anyone before.  
“Someone I know swears by it.” Nodded Dan with a laugh. “I tried it and it just made me feel so much worse.”  
“If it was the original one you drank, I can see why.” Ralph sniggered.  
“It was the orange one I drank - there was no way in Hell I was paying good money for carbonated piss, man.” Dan told him, making a face at the very idea of ever drinking the original flavour of that drink.

× × × × × ×

During the taping of the show and after a few moments of pure elation and stupid jokes about making enough letters to gain points, the host had declared that it was time to go to Dan over in dictionary corner.  
“So, Dan, other than being a paintbrush, I hear that you write songs?” Asked the host, clearly waiting for some kind of response that would allow him to throw the good-spirited shade he was currently holding on to.  
“Yep, I do.” Dan nodded, adjusting himself somewhat as he placed a small keyboard before him on the desk. “As you can tell, Jimmy, I'm a very talented paintbrush. Most people have only heard of Bob Ross’ paintbrush, but I'm the next big thing.” He added, causing the studio audience to erupt into a fit of giggles.  
“That might be true, but you’re a very unemployed paintbrush as well.” Jimmy agreed.  
“Why do you think I said yes to this gig, mate?” Dan clapped back without any hesitation, causing more laughter.  
“Would you mind--?” Jimmy began.  
“Playing you the song of my people?” Dan finished for him, placing his hands onto the correct keys. “I’ll do you one better, I'll play you a song dedicated to my guilty pleasure show. Grand Designs.”  
“You must watch a lot of the repeats on Home, since you're not working and everything?” Jimmy retorted.  
“I mean, who doesn't?” Dan shrugged. “Right, here we go. A song about Grand Designs.”

It was as Dan played his song about some property show, that Ralph, personally, was only vaguely familiar with, making the audience and the other comedians around him laugh at certain parts that Ralph found himself growing more curious about the skinny paintbrush on the other end of the room. Something about him was, quite frankly, adorable and there were other factors that had Ralph's stomach flutter somewhat. Why? He didn’t know; but it felt different. He gained accidental eye contact at some point and Dan briefly broke character to give him a wide grin and a little wink. Little shit thought Ralph, still smirking at the other comedian. It was as if Dan knew that he was causing this ruckus within Ralph and that was the exact reason why he kept making off expressions at his new buddy anytime they caught a glimpse of one another. Little shit, indeed. 

 

PRESENT

“What are you doing?” Ralph frowned, leaning against the doorway as he watched Dan fiddle with the over-packaged contents of a box.  
“My new melodica finally came.” Dan replied, pausing his rifling so that he could give his boyfriend a happy little grin.  
“Right.” Was Ralph's only response to this information. In his head, on the other hand, he was praying that Dan wouldn't insist on playing it at stupid o’clock in the morning like the time he'd bought a kazoo and had used it to play an awful prank on him - at four o’clock in the morning - by blowing it straight down Ralph's ear canal for no other reason than to make himself laugh. “Is it for work or?”  
“Well, yeah, obviously it's for work.” Dan nodded, carefully pulling the instrument out of the box and setting it down on his lap. “Look at it! Isn't it beautiful?” He happily sighed, apparently very proud of his new toy.  
“Absolutely.” Ralph snarked, nodding some. He didn’t really have an opinion on the bloody thing, but it had become a habit to just agree with his lover whenever such childish questions came out of his mouth.  
“It’s still not quite as good looking as you, though.” Dan smirked, making a point of locking eyes with Ralph as he said that. He knew that words like that would get his partner to shift uncomfortably before he would be rewarded with some kind of affection. Usually a kiss. He was hoping for a kiss. He was itching for a kiss, but he wasn't about to make the effort to saunter over to the doorway and get it; he was going to make Ralph come to him, instead.

And, after the initial but expected hesitation, that's exactly what Ralph did; he quietly made his way over to the couch, sat beside Dan then kissed his cheek.  
“Aw, I wanted a proper one.” He whined, making an over-exaggerated version of a pout, making Ralph roll his eyes.  
“You’re such a brat, you know that?” He sighed, slouching back in his seat.  
“You tell me at least eight times a day, so yeah.” Laughed Dan, putting the melodica back into the box before sitting back and leaning his head against Ralph's shoulder. “You love me, really, though.”  
“Keep telling yourself that.” Sniggered Ralph, wrapping an arm around the mischievous little shit’s shoulders and giving him a reassuring squeeze. He did love him, he just wasn't a big fan of being the victim of Dan’s mid-night pranks.  
“I love you, too.” Grinned Dan, shuffling himself closer.  
“I know you do, baldy.” Smirked Ralph, kissing the top of the idiot's head.


End file.
